Slow Burn: Part Three
by The Girl with the Mousy Hair
Summary: Part three of the Slow Burn trilogy. Sam and Gene know they have to go back to reality - but what does that mean? Gene/Sam slash.
1. Chapter 1: Running Gun Blues

Chapter Fifteen - Running Gun Blues

They arrived at the office together on Monday, which wasn't unusual enough to turn any heads. Sam felt that the truth of this weekend must be blazing out from them, for everyone to see, but things were just the same as any other Monday morning. CID was sparsely populated with the officers diligent enough to arrive in on time. Chris and Ray made their way in, one just after the other, yawning and slumping into their chairs. There was no chat for a while, as everyone woke up, drinking coffee and smoking fags. Gene had disappeared into his office for a shave, as was his habit, and Sam found himself leafing through the charge sheets from the weekend. It had been quiet, just the usual Saturday night drunks that were let out again on Sunday, shame faced. When Gene came back out of his office, clean shaven and adjusting his loose tie, Sam couldn't help but look up at him, appraisingly. He was a handsome man, really. Sam was surprised he'd never noticed it before. Gene caught his eye only momentarily, but Sam was sure he saw warmth in that look that hadn't been there before Friday. Gene parked himself in one of the chairs, lit a cigarette and swung his feet up onto the desk.

'So?' he said, out of nowhere. Everyone looked at him - he only had eyes for Chris. Chris blinked at him, nonplussed.

'What, Guv?'

'So what happened on Friday, you brain donor?'

Chris' eyes lit up.

'Oh! Eh... yeah! It was great!' He seemed transported by the memory, smiling. Sam looked at Ray, who was much less upbeat.

'What did you get? Upstairs inside?'

'She's a lovely bird, Guv. It wasn't like that.' Gene looked disappointed, and Chris' grin took on an extra edge.

'All right - upstairs inside, but don't tell her I told you.' As if Gene knew the lady in question and was ready to go round her house to get Chris into trouble. Mind you, you never knew when the Guv might take it into his head to get you into trouble, so maybe it wasn't such a daft thing to say.

'You seeing her again, then?' asked Sam, joining in for the first time.

'Yeah Boss, Friday night.' Chris looked so pleased with himself, Sam was really glad for him. He looked over at Ray again, who was pretending to study something on his desk. Gene had noticed, too, and wasn't as willing as Sam to let it lie.

'Well then Raymondo, what's your story?' he asked, trying to look innocent. Ray took a draw of his cigarette before answering.

'Wasn't that interested in her, Guv. Just went along to help Chris out, you know.' Sam thought he could read between the lines here, and smiled inwardly. It was good for Ray to get knocked down a peg or two, and it sounded like this woman had done just that. He wondered if Gene would insist on the truth, but before he could find out, Chris threw them a curve ball.

'You have a good weekend, Boss?' he asked. Sam felt a surge of paranoia that he stamped down before it could show in his face. Of course nobody knew about his weekend, that was impossible. Still, he wasn't really sure what to say, with Gene sitting so nearby, listening in.

'Yeah thanks Chris. A quiet one.' He tried to sound normal. Chris nodded, and it seemed like it had worked, until Gene tried to sabotage his efforts.

'Nothing to report then, Tyler? You didn't go on a bender?' The Guv's eyes sparkled, though his face was blank. Sam kept his own face as straight as he could as he answered.

'Nah Guv. No blow outs for me.' They looked at each other, faces studiedly casual with laughter just under the surface. Chris seemed to sense nothing wrong, and carried on the conversation.

'What about you,Guv? You and the missus visit the in-laws, did you?'

Sam's chest tightened at the mention of Gene's wife. He'd successfully forgotten about her, forgotten that Gene was a married, if separated, man. He'd also forgotten that their new romance, for want of a better word, wasn't the only secret they were keeping from the rest of the station. He felt a flare of guilt and unease. Gene's voice was quite steady as he answered.

'No - well, she did. You know how it is, a woman sometimes wants a bit of time with her family.' This was close to being the truth, but of course Chris thought nothing of it. Sam thought he saw Ray's brow crease briefly, but he didn't speak. Sam felt as though they'd come near to a cliff edge, and been drawn back at the last minute. He'd managed to cocoon himself in only the good feelings from the weekend, and ignore the potential problems and complications. If you could get past the complication of them both being straight men, everything else seemed to pale. Of course, this was just a convenient way to think about it; there were other people who could be affected by the new relationship between the DCI and DI of A division, either while it carried on or in the event that it went wrong and there was tension between them. Shit. This was a horrible idea, a huge screw up waiting to happen. They'd be better off never mentioning it again, writing it off as a lost weekend that, in time, might seem like it had happened to someone else.

Even as he thought this, he knew it was hopeless. This would run its course, whatever that might be, and Sam didn't want to stop it. Not when he'd just had the best weekend, the best sex and the best sleep he could remember having in such a long time. He was powerfully attracted to Gene, had been all along, and he couldn't honestly imagine turning his back on him now. Of course, that wouldn't stop him trying to get home. Of course not. It would just be, you know, a welcome distraction in the meantime. He wondered what Gene was thinking.

Gene was thinking back to the moment he'd woken up this morning, with Sam's arm draped over him. Before Sam had come out of his sleep, Gene had turned his face in towards that head of tousled brown hair and drawn a deep breath. The smell of Sam, his shampoo, the lingering smoke from Gene's own cigarettes, the undertones of sweat all combined to make something richer than the sum of its parts. He'd heard Sam talking about pheremones before now, and he thought he might finally understand what he'd been on about. He'd taken another slow breath, closing his eyes and fully appreciating this quiet moment, knowing that if Sam woke up now and caught him, he'd deny what he was doing. Anyway, it was time for work. The city wouldn't police itself, and he couldn't leave that shower of halfwits to run the show for themselves. Besides that, if he spent any longer on his own with Sam he might turn into a complete poofter; if two days had been enough to send him smelling hair and cuddling, who knew what might be next? He removed his arm from round Sam's shoulders and tried to gently ease himself out from their embrace.

Sam had woken up at the movement, blearily looking up at Gene, reaching up to rub his eyes.

'Time is it?' he'd asked, voice thick with sleep.

'Time to get up, Sunshine,' Gene had answered, giving away none of the tender feelings he'd been having. 'Up and at 'em.' Sam had moved to let Gene remove his arm, and he got up out of bed with a feeling of regret. When he'd come back from the shower he'd found Sam sitting up, reading a Reader's Digest he must have found in a drawer. He looked up at him. Gene tilted his head toward the bathroom.

'There's towels on the side,' he said shortly, and Sam nodded then swung himself lithely out of bed. Gene couldn't help but watch that perfectly formed arse on its way out the door, and stood for a moment after it was out of sight, lost in his own thoughts. Slowly, he'd got himself dressed, towelled off his hair, made his way downstairs to catch a bit of breakfast news and his first nicotine fix as he waited for Sam to be ready. Before long, Sam had come downstairs too, and they were both ready to start the week.

'Another day of crime fighting awaits, eh Guv?' said Sam, and Gene had given a huff of laughter.

'Another day indeed Sam. Gotta keep the streets clean.' He'd heaved himself off the couch and towards the door, finding his shoes under a chair on the way. Sam struggled into his boots, then slid his leather jacket on over the fresh shirt he'd brought from home. Gene donned his own coat, then they stood looking at each other at the door. Sam broke out in one of those patented Tyler grins, almost perfectly triangular, and Gene smiled back. He'd reached out and clapped Sam on the arm.

'Come on, partner. Let's go to work.'

Sam had laughed at that as they left the house. 'You've been watching too many films, Guv.'

His reverie was broken as he realised Phyllis was in the room, speaking in a tone that suggested she might have been talking for quite some time. He raised his eyebrows at her.

'Lord, if you weren't the Guv I swear I'd rattle your earhole... I said, we've got a shout. Robbery at the Post Office down Brown Street. Do you fancy it, or d'you want to wait for the next one?' Gene got to his feet fast, reaching for his coat.

'Tyler, you're with me. You two, try and head them off at Charlotte Street. We'll come at it straight down Brown Street. Phyllis, get all cars on it, get them blocking all exits. NOW!' Phyllis bustled off, clearly not appreciating the Guv's tone, and Sam, Chris and Ray bolted after Gene as he took long strides out to the car. The rest of the division scrambled after them, ready to join the chase.

Once in the car, Gene bombed it along, as usual, and Sam held on grimly. It was a ten minute drive for anyone else but the Guv nailed it in six, screeching to a halt in front of the Post Office and barrelling out to accost the first person to cross his path. The unfortunate staff were lined up outside, open-mouthed and shaken.

'Where did they go?' bellowed Gene, getting up close and personal with one of the women, who must have been seventy if she was a day. She stared at him for a moment before bursting in to sobs. The woman next to her put an arm round her, and glared at Gene.

'They went off that way,' she said, gesturing further along the main road and scowling. 'We've all had a shock, here, there's no call for you to go about shouting at us.' Gene was already walking away, and ignored her. Sam had stepped out of the car without closing the door, and gave the woman a conciliatory look as he asked, 'What kind of car was it?'. Despite himself, his eyes drifted to the only man in the group, who shrugged helplessly.

The angry woman replied. 'Green Capri,' she said, still scowling, undoubtedly further annoyed by this blatant sexism. Sam nodded his thanks then hopped back in the car as the Guv slid into the driver's seat. They had taken off again before he had the door fully shut, and Gene had grabbed the radio.

'Alpha One, this is eight seven zero. Suspects last seen heading east on Charlotte Street. In pursuit. Where's Ray and Chris?'

Phyllis' voice crackled back to him. 'Heading north up Portland Street. Over.'

Gene thought for a second, then said 'Tell them to carry on, and get all units eyeballing a green Ford Capri.'

'Roger that Guv.' Phyllis' tone was crisp, business-like. Sam looked out through the windshield, straining for a glimpse of the car they were after. He saw nothing. They roared along the street, dodging the other traffic, the Guv swearing roundly at anyone who got in his way. As they approached the broader Portland Street, he got back on the radio.

'Alpha One, come in,' he snarled, swerving round slower moving traffic one-handed.

'Alpha One receiving,' answered Phyllis, sounding tense.

'Get Chris and Ray off onto Piccadilly. We're heading to London Road. Anything coming in?' he asked, meaning to find out if anyone had spotted the getaway car.

'Roger that. No sightings Guv.'

Gene dragged the Cortina down a narrower street again, off the main run.

'Where are we headed Guv?' asked Sam.

'Got a feeling they're heading for the industrial estate. Gonna cut them off,' he replied, tersely. He skidded round another corner and floored it again. 'Get Phyllis to send all units down Fairfield Street and Mancunian Way. We'll box them in.' His face was grim, both hands clenched on the wheel. Sam radioed the instructions in, using a clear, calm tone. Phyllis acknowledged and then he saw it, the green Capri, half a dozen cars ahead of them on London Road.

'There!' he said, but Gene had already spotted them and sped up even further, roaring insults at their fellow drivers. Sam lost them in a sudden knot of traffic, but as the turn off for the group of industrial estates came up he thought he saw it peeling off and screeching away to the North. The Guv's instincts were frighteningly accurate, sometimes. They followed them off the main road and soon found themselves in among the factory buildings, but with no sign of their prey. Gene slowed down as they drove through, looking for a glimpse of them. Sam saw an open door up ahead, and pointed.

'There. The door's still swinging.'

Gene parked up outside, just past the door, and leaped out, reaching for his gun. Sam followed, this time not going by the book and contacting Phyllis. He was too caught up in the moment. He left his own weapon at his waist; running with a loaded gun was worse than running with scissors in his book. Gene's camelhair coat flew behind him as he ran to the door of the building and thumped into the wall next to it, back first and gun held up in both hands. Sam joined him, unholstering his weapon, and they made a silent count to three. Gene ducked low, stepping inside and to the right, as Sam covered him from round the edge of the entrance. They were just in time to see the last man running up a set of stairs at the back of the empty warehouse, and they both took off after him. Sam cringed against the bullets he was expecting at any second, but none came. They reached the stairs, Sam slightly ahead, and he charged up them. As he went through the doorway, he found himself grabbed and yanked into an unfriendly embrace. Metal pressed against his temple. His gun clattered out of his hand and onto the ground.

Gene was right behind him, and stopped in the doorway, levelling his own gun at the masked assailant.

'Drop it,' he said, voice even and commanding despite the furious chase.

'Don't think so, copper,' came the reply, the voice muffled by the balaclava the robber was wearing. 'Think me and my mates are going to walk out of here, with your friend escorting us, nice and friendly-like.'

Gene took the safety off his gun. 'You let him go. Do it NOW!'

There was an oily snigger from under the mask, and Sam felt the grip round his neck tighten.

'Not a chance. Why don't you step in here? Gently does it...' Sam knew the other blaggers must be behind them, but all he could see was Gene, standing with his gun pointed almost directly at him. He looked at him helplessly, cursing himself for running head first into this situation. Gene looked him in the eye as he stepped forwards a few paces, not unblocking the door just yet but getting a bit nearer. If the Guv was trying to communicate something with him, he had no idea what it was. Sam heard the safety go off on the gun pressed to his head, and swallowed hard.

'Listen Sunshine, this place is surrounded. You let him go and maybe we won't charge you with assaulting a police office,' said Gene. 'You're in enough trouble as it is.' The gun at Sam's head pressed harder, making him close his eyes briefly in a wince. Gene stopped moving.

'Step aside,' said Sam's captor. 'Now. Or this ponce gets it.' Sam saw a flare of anger in Gene's eyes, and he spun suddenly to the side and fired. Sam heard a scream from behind him, and felt the gun at his head waver away, distracted. He took his opportunity and threw his whole weight backwards, toppling both himself and the hostage taker to the ground. The blagger's gun went off as they fell, and Sam hammered his fist backwards into the outstretched wrist, partly dislodging the weapon. He flipped himself over and batted the gun completely out of the other man's hand, sending it skidding across the concrete, before punching him as hard as he could in the face. This earned him a grunt, and what felt like a broken fist, but he didn't let that stop him from grabbing the man's shoulders and bodily flipping him over onto his front. Later, he'd be amazed as always by the strength adrenaline provided, but for now he only wanted to get this situation under control. He heard a shower of running steps behind him as he folded the crook's arms up to his shoulder blades, causing another loud cry of pain, and knelt on them to hold him down. Only now did he look up to see what was going on in the rest of the room.

Gene had been joined by Chris and Ray, and now several plods were running through the door to add to the melee. Gene was kicking lumps out of one blagger, who lay curled up on the floor, bleeding. Ray had punched a second in the gut, hard enough to double him over, and was in the process of cuffing him as he stooped, winded. Chris had the last of the team cuffed already, hands behind his back and head hanging, blood oozing from a wound in his shoulder. Sam shouted one of the constables over to help him, and the PC cuffed the man on the ground. Leaving them behind, Sam jogged over to Gene and tried to stop him.

'Hey,' he said, grabbing the bigger man's shoulder. 'That's enough. It's over.' Gene turned on him, the fire still blazing in his eyes. Sam stepped back from the heat of that look. Gene turned away again, motioning to two plods who hadn't already stepped in to take custody of the gang.

'You two. Take this one an' all. Get him out of my sight.'

He walked out then, taking stiff strides, not looking back at Sam or anyone else. Chris had wandered over.

'You alright, Boss?' he asked. Sam continued to look through the doorway where Gene had disappeared.

'Fine Chris.' He dragged his eyes away, to look at the young man who'd helped save him. 'Fine, mate. Thanks.' He extended his gaze to Ray, who stood a short distance away. 'Thanks,' he said again. Ray grunted at him, and Chris patted his arm.

'No worries, Boss.'

Sam gave a half smile. 'See you back at the station, yeah?' With that, he headed off at slightly higher speed than was seemly. Gene was nowhere to be seen in the building, and Sam found him outside, leaning on the Cortina and smoking. He approached warily.

'Thanks Guv,' he said, shortly, standing in front of him. Gene stayed silent, looking at him in a way that was hard to read. Sam felt uncomfortable, not sure what was going on. Eventually, after long moments of stillness as the constables huckled the blaggers out of the building and into a van, Gene dropped and stubbed out his cigarette. Sam, who had been studying the ground, looked up at his face again. There was a stubborn pout in place, the eyes hard.

'Come on,' was all he said, as he climbed back into the car. All Sam could do was follow.

As they drove back to the station, at a more sedate pace, Sam brought Phyllis up to date and let her know to expect four for the cells. Then another silence fell. Sam was now sure he was in for a bollocking, and wished that it would happen sooner rather than later. This wasn't Gene's style, delaying the inevitable, dragging it out. He noticed that Chris and Ray had fallen in behind them, and wondered if the Guv was just waiting to get back to the station to make his humiliation more public. This was the longest car journey of his life.

They stepped back in to the station, Phyllis nodding her congratulations to them and a wide-eyed Annie behind her, looking to Sam for some information. He couldn't even rustle up a smile for her, but followed Gene past them and into the CID offices. As they got in to the main body of the office, Gene spun on his heel and Sam nearly collided with him.

'What the hell was that, Tyler?' he asked, sharp and low.

'Sorry, Guv,' was all Sam could say. He knew he'd made a mistake back there, running in blind, and he'd nearly paid for it. He started to feel shaky.

'Sorry? You're sorry? You will be sorry you little scrotum, you scared the crap out of me!' This, Sam hadn't expected, and he turned on instinct to see if anyone else had heard. He saw Chris and Ray advancing down the corridor, not near enough to hear the Guv's subdued tones. They would be here in a second though.

As he had his head turned away, Gene pushed him, lightly. 'You look at me when I'm talking to you, Tyler. You just look at me and listen up.

Don't ever, ever let me see you charging in somewhere like that again.'

The injustice of this rankled with Sam. 'Charging in?' he asked. 'Who do you think I learned that from?'

'Charging in without your gun up is very different. You could have been shot. You could have been shot, right in front of me.' Sam heard Chris and Ray come in, then, could picture the look of glee on Ray's face as he prepared to watch his DI get his arse handed to him. This made Sam feel angrier.

'Well, Guv, maybe next time you should just let it happen, teach me a lesson, how about that?' He saw Gene's eyes narrow and he was grabbed by the arm. He looked down at the bruising fingers with an expression of scorn.

'Let me guess - you want a word?' he said, sarcastically. Gene yanked him forward, managed to swap their places so he could give Sam a hard shove towards his own, private office. Sam went with it, stumbling but wanting to get away from Ray's mocking eyes, anyway. As they went through the door, Gene slammed it closed with a practised heel and spun Sam again, this time against the filing cabinet. He got into Sam's space, not holding him or pushing any more, but undeniably ready to do so if the situation called for it.

'I could have seen you shot,' he said again. 'You could have died.'

'No shit, Gene. That's what happens to us, every day.'

Now Gene did push him again, rocking the cabinet. 'Don't you come the smart arse with me. Don't you dare.'

'Well, Guv, stop shoving me around and I'll have a think about it,' he retorted, that old flame of anger now coloured with another emotion. Gene's touch held new meaning now, and even when it was less than gentle it still seemed to have the power to turn Sam on, under the surface.

Gene was scowling into his face, pressing so close to him that their stomachs were almost touching. 'Do I have to send you off on basic training again?' he growled.

Sam didn't reply to that, only looked Gene in the eye with an insolent stare. Gene wasn't finished.

'You disgraced yourself Tyler. And me. If my own DI can't catch a bunch of pansies like that without getting dragged in as a hostage...' Sam cut him off.

'Bunch of pansies, were they? Is that why you shot one of them and kicked another one half to death?'

'I shot one of them to save you. I look after my men,' his voice was louder now, and Sam wondered if it would carry to the others. The rest of A division must be getting back by now, they would have quite the audience. It wasn't enough to stop him raising his own voice, though.

'Look after us? By shoving us about and calling us names? Right, Guv. I feel dead looked after.' His words hit home, making Gene draw his face into a snarl.

'Well you should, Dorothy, because if it wasn't for me you'd be dead.' That was the first time Gene had called him Dorothy since before they'd kissed, and it stung.

'Oh it's Dorothy again, is it? Well, Guv, I'm glad to now how you really feel. You shouldn't hold back so much, you know?' This earned him another shove, and this time Gene held on to his lapels, using them to draw their faces even closer together. He dropped his tone again, keeping his words private, between them.

'You are pushing my buttons here, Tyler. That's not a smart move.' He still looked furious, but was there something else that Sam was picking up there? A reflection of his own lust? By God, he thought there was.

'Bloody hell, Guv. I don't know if you want to fight me or fuck me.' He said it quietly, but with all the listening ears right outside he felt as though he'd shouted it from the rooftops. It was dangerous, so dangerous... but there was a black fun to it, too. Gene finally flattened his body against Sam's, and for a moment Sam could feel something that wasn't Gene's gun in his pocket.

'You want the truth? Me neither.'

'Maybe we could find out, later,' said Sam, trying to keep his voice steady.

'Maybe we could, at that.' Gene dropped Sam's collar, stepped away. He raised his voice again. 'If I ever catch you pulling something like that again, Tyler, I'll demote you to DC faster than you can say "Shit, he's got a gun".'

'Yes, Guv,' Sam replied, the fight gone out of him with the promise of another night with Gene later.

'Get back in there and write this mess up. Oh, and I think you'll find that one of the robbers was injured when the hostage taker dropped his gun. Don't you?'

Sam understood, and while he may once have balked at the suggestion of lying in his paperwork, nowadays he could see the merit in it, now and again.

'Yes, Guv,' he said again, meekly this time.

'Good.' Gene drew a hipflask from his pocket and took a long draw. 'Get on with it.'

Sam did his best to look chastised as he left the office, catching Chris' commiserating shrug with a slight roll of his eyes. Inside, though, he was on top of the world. Tonight was shaping up to be fun.


	2. Chapter 2: Love you Till Tuesday

Chapter Sixteen - Love You Till Tuesday

They had hardly made it into Sam's flat before they started kissing, touching each other, wound up by having to keep their intentions secret all day long. This was the first time they'd got so close without being drunk - Gene's hipflask notwithstanding - and it was a little different. The desire was still there but it started to become tempered with self-consciousness. They lay on Sam's uncomfortable bed, half dressed, kissing and running their hands over each other, but after a while Sam had lost the feeling.

'Stop...' he said, moving his head away and dropping his chin so that his eyes didn't meet Gene's. He could feel Gene's surprise and frustration coming out at him in waves.

'What?' he asked, sharply.

'It's just... It doesn't feel right.'

Gene obviously had no idea what to say to this. His roving hands stilled, one on Sam's bare waist, the other falling away from its place in Sam's dark hair. Sam felt overwhelmed by a sense of shame and sadness. He wanted to want this, sober or otherwise, but God, it was so weird. He couldn't stop thinking about all the possible consequences of this entanglement: he might lose his job as DI; he might lose the Guv altogether; he might strand himself here in 1973 by getting attached. All these thoughts, and more, spun round his brain no matter how much he tried to keep himself in the moment. Everything that Gene was doing felt right, but every time he tried to focus on that some new possible problem popped into his mind and dragged it off to the side. He felt stranded, alone, confused.

'I'm sorry,' he said, barely audibly. This was definitely not cool.

Gene didn't know what to make of it. All day, since their fight in the office, Sam had been winding him up, going out of his way to make body contact and dropping words loaded with double meaning. Now he said it didn't feel right? Gene would never have taken him for such a cock tease. He felt frustrated, itching all over, unable to think clearly. Sam's hand rested on his chest, palm flat, as though pushing him away. There was no need of that; Gene Hunt had never forced himself on anyone, he wasn't going to start now.

Sam's head was still dipped, his posture almost cringing. Looking down at the hunched shoulders, Gene began to understand a bit more. This was weird, he couldn't deny it. Sam was a troubled sod at the best of times; just because he, Gene, had made his peace with this step into the unknown didn't mean that Sam had. Besides, his own peace was largely dependent on him not thinking about things too much. He certainly didn't want to pressure Sam into anything he'd regret. He had no idea what to say, though. This was all so new, from top to bottom. He shifted a little, leaning back on his hip.

'OK,' he said. 'It's OK.' Working on instinct, he squeezed the hand on Sam's waist. Sam looked up at him, hazel eyes wide and hopeful. He nodded, then took his hand away as he rolled onto his back to fetch the cigarette packet from his coat pocket; he'd dropped his coat by the bed in the early moments of their passionate kissing as they'd come in the door. He took one out of the packet and sparked it with the lighter he kept in there. He stayed on his back for the first draw, then pulled himself back on to his side, facing Sam. Usually he would smoke facing away from him, but now it seemed important to make eye contact, show Sam that he wasn't angry. He had a monumental case of blue balls, yes, but he wasn't angry.

They lay in silence, Sam with his shirt off, Gene with his half unbuttoned and rumpled. Sam had gone back to looking down, his hand now between them on the bed. On impulse, Gene tucked his cigarette in the corner of his mouth and reached down to take that hand. He curled his fingers into the palm, squeezing gently before relaxing again, but not taking it away. He squinted an eye against the smoke and spoke around his fag.

'I don't want you to do anything you don't want to,' he said, quietly. Sam looked up again, his expression muddled.

'It's not that I don't want to. I do, I just... God, it's complicated. Isn't it?' His eyes took on a pleading cast, and Gene loosed his hand again to take his smoke away from his face.

'It is, Tyler. Wish it wasn't.' He puffed out a stream of blue smoke, upwards away from them, then realised he didn't have an ashtray. 'Hang on,' he said, as he heaved himself out of bed to get one. The saucer from Friday night was sitting on the table against the wall, and he walked around to pick it up. He turned back to find himself facing the same dilemma as the last time; should he get back on the bed with Sam, or take up residence in the chair? One look at Sam's curled in posture made the decision for him, and he walked back round to join him on the bed, leaving some room in the middle to place the saucer. Sam rocked himself back to allow a bit more space.

'Look,' said Gene. 'You know I'm not a talker. Makes me uncomfortable. All I'll say is this: I like you, Tyler. You're the best copper I've ever worked with, and that takes some doing.'

Sam didn't meet his eyes as he replied. 'Is that what I am? A good copper?'

'Not all, but yes, you are. I don't know why you decided to transfer through from Hyde, but I'm glad you did.' Sam seemed on the verge of speaking, but then changed his mind. Silence fell between them as Gene continued to draw on his cigarette, filling the tiny flat with wisps of smoke. He felt the awkwardness, the Atmosphere, and hated it. It reminded him of inconvenient facts; facts that told him he wasn't twenty years old any more, that he couldn't just have casual flings that meant nothing. Especially not with members of his own constabulary. Especially not with other men.

'Thanks, Guv,' said Sam, still sounding sad. Gene didn't want to say any more, give away anything else of himself, but he felt like there was one last thing he should add.

'You're my partner, Sam. I don't want to lose you.' That was more than he'd usually have admitted, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He thought he could see Sam straightening out a bit, some of the tension easing from his shoulders.

'So if I said I couldn't do this... You wouldn't send me away?' he asked, still not looking up. Gene couldn't believe Sam felt like he had to ask this again, and his voice was harder as he answered.

'We've had this conversation already. I won't be sending you back anywhere. I thought you were getting ready to pack your bags at any minute, though, the way you talk.' This was true - it seemed crazy for Sam to worry about being sent away when the rest of the time he was desperate to get back to Hyde. Crazier even than usual.

Sam knew that there was truth in Gene's words, knew how it must look to an outsider, but he had his reasons to be worried. He believed that the only way for him to get home was to figure something out, some locked-in secret of his own mind. Regardless of what strings the Guv might be able to pull, he was sure there was no string long enough to reach to 2006. If Gene did decide one day that he wanted Sam out of his station and called up some higher authority to make it so, what would happen next? Sam feared he'd end up in another new station, with another new set of challenges, but without the benefit of Gene's solid presence. Probably without the benefit of frequent bruised ribs, if it came to it, but somehow Sam knew he'd miss even those, if he was cast into whatever wilderness his subconscious version of Hyde might be.

If he had to be here, in 1973, he wanted to be here with Gene. The thought that he might have ballsed this up once by letting his emotions and desires get the better of him, and then ballsed it up further by deciding it was a bad idea, was making him miserable.

'Yeah, I suppose,' Sam said, listlessly. He didn't know how to get out of this heavy situation he'd created. Gene stubbed out his cigarette, then removed the makeshift ashtray to the floor by the bed. When he rolled back, Sam still hadn't moved, and he felt another flare of annoyance.

'Come on Tyler, snap out of it.' He snapped his fingers in time with his words, knowing that he should really be taking a more gentle approach but not having it in him. 'We're both too old for this moping about. It's only sex, for God's sake.'

This made Sam look up. 'Is it?' he asked, bluntly. Gene looked back at him.

'It could be, if you weren't suddenly coming over all Mother Theresa.' Finally he saw something wake up in Sam's eyes, some of the self pity go out of them. He was glad to see it. Better angry than pathetic, that's what Gene thought.

'Oh, well excuse me for having emotions a little more complicated than you can handle. Life's not all whiskey, punch ups and hand shandies, you know.' He turned away then, looking for his shirt. He found a vest next to the bed and pulled it on, wanting to be covered up again. He heard Gene start laughing behind his back and anger filled his chest again.

'I'm glad you find this hilarious, Gene, I really am. At least one of us is getting something out of it.' Gene's laugh cut off and Sam heard him stand up. He kept his back turned, fists clenched by his sides.

'Getting something out of it? You've changed your tune, Tyler, haven't you? Unless I am very much mistaken, which I never am, you were getting a big something out of it last night, and I don't just mean my enviably-sized John Thomas.' Sam spun round, face showing his distaste for the crudeness of this remark.

'Leave it out, Guv, you know what I mean. It's not as simple as you want to think.'

'And it's not as complicated as you're trying to make it!'

They were shouting at each other now, the rhythm of their raised voices steadyingly familiar. They both started to walk around the bed, meeting at the foot, glaring dangerously into each other's eyes.

'You know nothing about me, Gene. Nothing,' Sam said, grimly.

'I know you're on a hiding to a slap,' Gene replied, keeping his eyes firmly on Sam's.

'A slap? You can do better than that. Why not have another go at breaking my nose? Go on, I'm right here,' Sam goaded, shouting up into the set face above him, spreading his hands in invitation. Gene looked very much as though he would like nothing better, but didn't move.

'You want to get your head straight, Sam, before it gets you into trouble.'

'Oh, trouble is it, now? I've been in nothing but trouble since I landed here, don't flatter yourself into thinking you can scare me with a bit more,' he countered, all melancholy lost in the heat of this argument. He was savagely glad; it was easier to be angry, much easier. Gene's face remained hard, mouth a thin line.

'You are impossible, Tyler. I've never met anyone so determined to be miserable.'

Sam fell back on that old standby, 'You have no idea.'

'So you keep saying. Why don't you try me?' Gene tilted his head up, raising his eyebrows and pursing his lips. He folded his arms over the half-opened shirt, flexing his broad shoulders. Sam had no idea how to reply to that. It was sorely tempting to lay the whole story out for Gene now, watch him try to deal with it. Of course, he would never believe a word of it, and they could forget any reconciliation once the Guv thought he was a nutcase. Besides, Gene was only trying to push him into giving away something he didn't want to, and Sam resented that. Resented the hell out of it.

'Piss off, Gene,' he snapped. 'Don't pretend you give a shit.' He could see that this remark had made an impact, and there was a flicker in the Guv's eyes. He dropped his arms again.

'If I was pretending, I'd be doing a much better job of it, and I'd probably have your mouth round my dick again by now.'

'Oh really?' said Sam, witheringly, trying to ignore the fact that the blood wasn't only rising to his face now.

'Yes, really. It may surprise you to learn that I haven't aways been the pillar of morality you see before you now. I've had me share of women, and some of them I am ashamed to say I didn't give a toss about, but it didn't stop me getting me end away.' He saw the judgement in Sam's eyes. 'Not like that, I never forced anyone, but I can sweet-talk with the best of them. Yes, I can,' he said, reacting now to Sam's scornful expression. 'If I felt like it I could have had you half way to in love with me by now, complicated or otherwise.'

'Well, Guv, I am absolutely agog to hear why you haven't worked your magic on me,' said Sam, in his finest acerbic tones.

'Because, whether you believe it or not, I do give a shit. If you wanna go back to how things were, it's fine by me, but be a man and say it, for Christ's sake.' They had edged nearer to each other, with neither of them precisely intending to, so they were in that familiar pose once more; faces turned into each other, shoulders tense. The force of Gene Hunt in all his roused glory spoke to something in Sam that he hadn't known existed until he'd met this man. This terrible, wonderful man. Before he knew where he was, he was kissing Gene again, and being kissed back, hands that had been poised to push and hit instead pulling and holding, each of them drawing hard breaths between furious, passionate embraces. Gene's lips were so soft, much softer than Sam had expected in his early, much-denied daydreams. The hint of stubble on his jaw scratched against Sam's face and lips, both hurting and exciting him. Strong hands were tugging his vest back over his head and he went with it, pressing back in again as soon as it was discarded. He brought his own hands to the remaining buttons on Gene's shirt, the taste of fresh smoke and the hot breath on his face making it hard to concentrate on getting them undone. When he finally managed it, he plunged both hands under the shirt and against Gene's sides, round to his back, back to his smooth chest and up into his hair. That too-long hair, both soft and rough, just the right length to wind his fingers through and tug.  
Gene gave a near snarl when Sam did this, reciprocating with a nipping bite to Sam's swollen lower lip. Sam felt hands drop to his belt buckle and this time didn't have any doubts about it whatsoever. He moved one hand to hold Gene's jaw, cradling it as the taller man leaned his face down to meet his own. He ran his thumb across the coarse skin, and when it met the corner of their lips Gene ran his tongue out, very deliberately, to enfold it in heat and wetness. This brought back obvious comparisons to yesterday's experience in the spare room, and he felt a jolt in his stomach. As Gene reached into his trousers, not even bothering to try taking them off, he followed suit and began unbuttoning the buckle in front of him, tugging down the zip with enough haste to get it snarled up in itself so that he had to use both hands to pull it taut and open it properly. All this time, the hand on his dick was making it hard to focus, made him gasp into the open mouth locked on his own.

As Tyler finally slid a hand into his underwear, Gene barely contained a shiver. The novelty was still there, evidently, and coupled with the heated exchange between them it was making him as horny as ever. He curled his free arm round Sam's narrow waist and tugged him closer, pressing them together at mouth and at crotch. The feeling of Sam's hand against his own as they stroked each other towards a climax was a huge turn-on, and he maintained his firm hold round Sam's waist as they moved faster and harder.

Once more, they came together, and as the stars in front of his eyes faded, Gene marvelled at how much easier it was to make that happen with another bloke. No matter what the films would have you think, it was never like that with a woman, you were on edge the whole time, worried that you were racing ahead, being a sexist pig. He liked to please his lovers, took pride in it, but with Sam it seemed easy to do. They had left off kissing at the end, Sam leaning his head into Gene's neck to muffle the soft groans he was making, and Gene rested his face against Sam's hair now, breathing deeply. Gene had been working his hand gently against Sam, prolonging his orgasm as much as he could, but he could feel that it was all over. It was for him, too, and he felt suddenly weak around the knees. He withdrew his hand as Sam did the same, both of them taking a shambling step backwards and apart. They looked at each other, and Sam said,

'You manipulative bastard. You made me angry on purpose!' His eyes were dancing though, and Gene thought he might not really believe it. Or, at least, might not mind it. In fact, he hadn't really planned what had just happened; he'd wanted Sam angry rather than pouting like a teenager, but hadn't thought ahead to what might have come after the anger. He supposed it was obvious, in hindsight, but you know what they say about hindsight.

'Not a bit of it, Tyler. You were the one playing hard to get, you tease.' He kept his own eyes mellow. Sam frowned at him, which was spoiled by a broad smile battling to escape the compressed lips. Gene huffed laughter, then looked down at the not inconsiderable mess they'd made. He jerked his head in the direction of the bathroom then made his way there to do the necessary. He could hear Sam running water in the kitchen sink, presumably doing the same. You didn't get this in the films, either. Mind you, he hadn't been watching the kind of films where two blokes had their hands in each other's trousers.

Sam knew that he probably should feel manipulated, but he honestly didn't believe that the Guv had done this on purpose. He was more a man of action than deceit. Besides, he had to be honest; he'd enjoyed that fierce, brief encounter just as much as the others, was glad it had happened. As he dried off his hands and swiped a towel across his stomach, he hoped Gene would stay with him tonight. Tomorrow was soon enough to face up to all the reasons that this was a terrible idea. He knew they'd have to eventually, but surely it could wait just one more night?

He started to fasten himself back up again, but realised that he'd be better off in fresh clothes instead. Not wanting Gene to come back and find him naked (as absurd as that was), he quickly stripped down and produced a pair of jogging trousers from a drawer. He pulled them on, soft against his skin, then went back to the bed to sit down. Gene emerged then, shirt and, for that matter, fly still open, the man himself seeming completely at ease with this state of undress.

'Well, Tyler, what's it to be tonight? Want me to get going, leave you to your thoughts?' Sam took the mocking with good nature.

'Let's say you've convinced me otherwise, Guv.'

Gene nodded slowly, eyes still bright but a more serious look on his face. 'Feeling better?' Sam could only shrug.

'Doesn't do to think too much, does it?'

'Couldn't agree with you more, Tyler.'

They smiled at each other, but in their hearts they both knew that the time for thinking would come before long.


	3. Chapter 3: Can You Hear Me?

Chapter Seventeen - Can You Hear Me?

Gene was kissing him again. He had no memory of when it had begun, it felt like there might never have been a time when they weren't locked together in this gentle embrace. Everything else was hazy, all that was real was Gene's mouth, and his hands in Sam's hair. Sam had his eyes closed, seeing nothing but red darkness. He felt light, free, as though the doubts and worries he'd had were nothing more than fever-dreams. He felt like he might never have to worry again. As Gene kissed him, so gently this time, he felt his body react, yearning for more. He reached down to touch Gene, the tips of his fingers brushing across taut fabric before his palm pressed in to cup the length of him.

Suddenly they were standing apart, on either side of the bed. Sam didn't remember getting up, wasn't sure how they'd got here. Gene was angrier than Sam had ever seen him before, his teeth bared and neck stiff. He was fully clothed, right down to driving gloves and coat, while Sam was dishevelled, half-undressed. Gene stared across the space between them, menacingly.

'Don't touch me,' he snarled, voice flat but loud. 'Keep your hands to yourself.'

Sam had no idea what was happening. He was finding it hard to keep his eyes open; Gene's anger seemed almost to give off a fierce white light. He tried to force them wide, to look at Gene properly, to find out what was going on.

'Gene...' he started, not sure what else to say.

'Shut up.' The Guv's voice was sharp, full of edges. Sam squinted at him, blinking hard. He couldn't focus. This was all wrong.

'Guv...' he tried again, a note of pleading entering his voice.

'I told you to shut up.' All Sam could do was co-operate, he didn't know what to say anyway. His hands hung by his sides, feeling as though they were weighted down. His whole body felt heavy and stupid. How they had gone from the sweetest, most tender moment they'd had together to this, Sam couldn't understand. He still couldn't bring his eyes into focus and gave another deep blink to try again.

'Listen to me,' Gene started, voice rising. 'If I ever see you again, and I do mean ever, I will beat you so hard your own mother wouldn't recognise you.'

_Sam._

His mother. Mum. His mum - that was her voice, calling him. So different to the commanding tones that Gene was using now. So soft. God, he missed her so much.

'Are you listening, Tyler?' The Guv was shouting at him, not at the full height of his range but approaching it.

'Yes... Guv... What...?' Sam was more confounded than ever. He brought his hands up to his eyes and pressed hard, trying to rub them clear.

'You know what,' roared Gene, with great venom.

'I don't!' cried Sam, feeling sick.

_Sam... Can you hear me?_

That was definitely his mum. He wished he could see her again, wished he'd never woken up here in 1973 in among this chaos. Sometimes he could hear her speaking to him but he could never answer, and that was worse than nothing at all. And now Gene, the man he relied on, the man he'd trusted to lead him and look after him, had turned on him. Was looking at him like something you might see in the morgue after a house fire. He couldn't stand it. He started to walk around the bed, to get closer to Gene, hoping that he'd be able to see him properly if he just got a bit nearer. His steps dragged, as though he was wading through a swamp. It was hard to lift his feet.

'Go ahead and take one more step, Sunshine. Just one more. I'm begging you.' Sam knew all the warning signs when it came to Gene Hunt, had seen him flare up enough times to know when it was about to happen, but he couldn't help himself and carried on his slow way round the foot of the bed. Gene turned to face him, took a step forward of his own. To Sam's eyes he was a shadowy figure, less clear instead of more, now that they were standing next to each other. Part of the shadow rose and Sam felt a burst of pain as the right hook connected squarely with his jaw, breaking it. His legs, already struggling to bear his weight, folded and he landed on the ground.

'You're nothing but a dirty queer, Tyler. You stay the hell away from me, and from my men. There's no place for your filth round here. Go back to Hyde.'  
Sam looked up at him, tears in his eyes, unable to feel even the beginnings of anger. He felt as though the breath had been crushed out of his lungs, his jaw flared and throbbed miserably.

'Guv, please. What's happening?'

'What's happening? I will tell you what's happening, if you are determined to pretend you don't know. You have been making eyes at me for months, touching me when you think nobody's looking, dropping in little suggestive remarks when you think nobody will hear them.' Sam's head, already swimming before the blow to the jaw, spun in wild reels.

'No...' he said, weakly, but Gene didn't stop.

'Tonight you finally got me drunk enough and piled me into me own car, then drove me back here to touch me up. Unfortunately for you, it takes a lot more than you'd think to keep me drunk for long, and finally I've got the reason I need to send you packing.'

'No, Guv... That never happened...' He was almost sure it had never happened. Wasn't he?

_Look what they've done to you. My brave boy._

'Mum...' he whispered.

'You, Tyler, are a pervert. You disgust me.' Gene drew back then unleashed a kick to Sam's thigh that left his leg utterly dead, and sent him toppling on to his side. He covered his face with his arms, expecting more kicks and blows to rain down. Instead, Gene only stood over him, a dark cloud.  
A smaller cloud detached itself from his form, seeming to have come from behind him.

'He's right you know, Sam. I've been watching you.' That voice. It had been silent in the last couple of weeks, but he recognised it again now. 'You a_re_ disgusting.' The Test Card Girl stood over him, looking down with her serious face, her clown doll dangling from one hand like a hanged man.

'That's not what happened. None of this is real,' Sam managed, trying to take strength from his own words. He still felt like he had to gasp for breath, his vision slid in and out of clarity. His jaw ached and felt swollen, his leg had started to come back to life and added its own bass thud to the symphony of pain.

'Not real?' chorused Gene and the Test Card Girl together. 'Not real?' And then they started to laugh, Gene's booming cackle entwining uncomfortably with the giggles of the child.

_Sam? Can you hear me? I'm right here._ He tried to draw comfort from his mum's voice but it was hard to get past the mocking laughter that surrounded him. Another noise added to the cacophony; the beep of a hospital monitor. It was speeding along, echoing his racing heart, and more hot tears spilled from his eyes.

_Sammy?_

-bip-

_Sam?_

-bip-

'You disgust me, Tyler.'

-bip-

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, pressing hard enough to send silver flashes across his vision, then with superhuman effort pushed the lids all the way open. He let out a huge gasp as he did so, trying to fill his lungs with fresh, clean air.

He was suddenly able to focus again, and the first thing he saw was Gene's face, frowning thunderously into his own. He let out a scream and scrambled back, realising too late that he was no longer on the floor but in bed; he fell to the carpet with a teeth-rattling thud and cried out again as he bit his tongue. He brought his knees up to his face, tucked his head down and wrapped his arms around it, blocking everything out. Finally, there was silence. Blessed silence.

He curled up there in this new silence for a few moments, waiting for the next blow to fall. Understanding began to grow as he did.  
A dream. It was a bad dream, he told himself. His heart still hammered, and his breath came in gasps, but the pain in his face and leg had gone, and he felt able to move himself without that sensation of being held back by invisible strings of elastic. He blinked into the darkness he'd created; his eyes felt normal, easy to open. It was obvious now, but as he'd been held in the terror of the dream it had felt so real. God, that had been a bad one.  
He sensed movement at his feet, and lifted his head just enough to look out over the top of his arms. He'd started to shiver a little, the cold floor and the remnants of the dream working on him. Gene had eased his way off the bed and onto the floor, and sat with his back against the bed, regarding Sam steadily.

'What happened there, then?' he asked, conversationally. Sam looked at him, remembering the hurtful words dream-Gene had said to him, the feeling of his jaw cracking as the punch hit home, his mum's faraway voice, and it was all too much. His chest hitched as he folded his lips together, trying to hold it in, but he felt his chin wobble treacherously. Tears sprang to his eyes unbidden and he returned his head to his knees, trying at least to hide his face while he collected himself. He battled hard against the sobs that wanted to come, applying every ounce of his will to denying his body this shameful release. He felt Gene move away from his feet and was both glad and disappointed. When he felt the arm round his shoulders a flood of relief ran through his whole body and he relaxed against Gene's comforting presence with a watery sigh. Gene had dragged the blanket off the bed and wrapped it round Sam now. Sam kept his head down and eyes closed, managing some deeper and steadier breaths now.

'Alright, Sam. That's enough, yeah? You're alright.' Gene's calm voice, so rarely used, worked it charms and Sam nodded, wiping at his eyes brusquely.

'Yeah. Sorry Guv.'

'What happened?'

'Bad dream.'

'I'll say. You were talking, in your sleep,' he told him. This explained why he'd been looking so intently at Sam when he woke up. Shit.

'What was I saying?' he asked, bracing himself for the worst.

'You just kept saying "not real",' Gene told him, and Sam felt more relief. He nodded, taking another full breath and rolling his eyes up to blink away the last of the repressed tears. Gene drew a breath of his own.

'Well, mornings with you are certainly interesting, I'll give you that,' he paused then, before asking, 'What happened? In your nightmare.'

Sam couldn't tell him. There was no way he could tell him without seeming completely unhinged, probably because he was completely unhinged. Even just a portion of the truth would be bad enough - if Gene got wind that Sam was dreaming about him, he'd never hear the end of it.

'Don't remember,' he lied. 'Bad though.'

'I can see that. Come on, get up. Time for work.'

Sam would just have soon have crawled back into bed. As Gene's arm left his shoulders, he drew the blanket closer round him for a minute, trying to warm himself fully.

'Can I use the shower?' asked Gene, standing up. 'I was itching all day, last time.' Sam nodded, ignoring the over-share.

'Towels in a box under the bed, there.' Gene dragged them out, chose a scratchy towel and slung it over his shoulder. He made to move away, but stopped and leaned over to clap Sam on the arm, through the layers of blanket. Then he headed through to the bathroom, not bothering to close the folding door over. Sam sat for a minute longer, listening to Gene's mild-mannered swearing as he got the shower to work. When he knew Gene was safely under the water, he allowed himself a few silent tears, shoulders shaking as he relived the worst horrors of the night. As he recovered himself for the second time, he heard the water go back off again and grabbed a towel of his own. He'd have a hot shower, get the day started properly, and he'd feel a lot better.

That wouldn't be difficult.


	4. Chapter 4: Reality

Chapter Eighteen - Reality

Sam sat in the canteen, alone. The other lads were all crowded together, laughing and smoking, and as much as he could join them in the pub, here in the station he was still a bit of an outsider. He pushed the food around on his plate; he had no appetite for it, but he knew he had to eat something. As he took another forkful, a tray was placed on the table in front of him. He looked up to see Annie smiling at him.

'Mind if I join you?' she asked, brightly.

'Course not,' he said, smiling back. She took a seat, smoothing her skirt down behind her neatly.

'How are you?' he asked, glad of the prospect of a nice, normal conversation.

'Good! What about you? What happened yesterday? I wanted to speak to you but you seemed so busy all day after you came back... Are you OK?' Her voice lowered a little on the last question, even though nobody could overhear them over the raucous conversation from the other table.

'I'm fine, honestly. Let my guard down when I shouldn't have, that's all. The Guv had it covered.' He didn't want to talk about Gene any more than necessary, afraid that something incriminating would show on his face. Annie wasn't quite ready to let it lie though.

'That's not what I heard. I heard you had a gun to your head!' Her blue eyes were wide, concerned. Sam felt a flush of warmth at this, it was good to know that someone cared about him like this and wouldn't give him a hard time for being careless.

'Well... yeah, that did happen. Honestly, though, I'm fine.'

'I don't know how you do it, Sam. You're so brave.'

Sam felt that flush run to his face, his cheeks reddening just a little at Annie's breathless tone and sincere expression.

'Not me. A regular cowardy custard, me,' he replied, winking and taking another mouthful of his cooling lunch. He saw Annie's eyes soften, her mouth crease into a sweet but slightly stern smile.

'Don't be so modest. You're out there all the time, getting into trouble just so you can keep the rest of us safe...' Sam couldn't stand for that.

'Come on, Annie! You're out there with us half the time. Couldn't do most of it without you, you know that.' This mutual appreciation was getting a bit much, maybe, but he did mean what he was saying. Annie didn't have nearly enough confidence in her own abilities, she was a great copper, and he hated seeing people ignoring that fact because she was 'just a plonk'. She turned her eyes down at the compliment, took a bite of her own lunch.

'Your face is looking better anyway. No more run-ins with the Guv?' she asked. Sam nearly choked on his Smash.

'Eh... no. Well, not really. Bit of a disagreement yesterday but no black eyes, you know.'

'He's too hard on you,' she said, causing another involuntary snort. 'I'm serious! It's not right, you two fighting all the time. Sets a bad example.' Sam looked up and caught a glint in her eye.

'The whiskey drinking, dangerous driving and suspect menacing is OK though, yeah?' She gave him another tiny smile, eyes twinkling. He returned it with a smirk of his own, then took another forkful of spam.

'How was the rest of your weekend?' he asked, before transferring it into his mouth. Annie's expression clouded over a little as she lowered her head.

'Yeah, good,' she said, airily. Sam got the feeling she was hiding something.

'Did you see your new man again?'

'Oh... He's not exactly my new man. He's more of a friend of a friend. He seems nice, though!' This sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than Sam. 'Just a bit... over-friendly...'

Sam swallowed his mouthful. 'Over-friendly?' he repeated.

Annie looked uncomfortable. 'You know. A bit... fresh...'

Sam felt his hackles rise. If this prick had put a hand on his Annie, there would be hell to pay. Hang on... MY Annie? That one had slipped through the net. Annie was no more his than he was hers. There was nothing between them. Remember? Still, he couldn't deny how protective he felt, and tried to tell himself it was more brotherly than anything else.

'Did he do something you didn't like? Do you need me to have a word?' he asked, darkly. Annie's face lightened again in response, and she gave a half smile.

'No, it's OK. I won't be seeing him again, that's all.' Sam continued to look serious and she laughed a little.

'It's not that bad! He just got a bit handsy. I can take care of meself, thank you.' He knew this wasn't a rebuke, that she was genuinely grateful for his concern. Sam sniffed.

'Alright. If he comes around bothering you, just let me know, OK? Hey, maybe we can set the Guv on him, eh?' They both laughed at that.

They ate in silence for a little while, then Annie spoke again.

'You seem a bit different, these days.'

'Oh yeah? How's that?' he asked, trying to stay casual. Annie was perceptive, that was one of the reasons she made such a good police officer. He wondered if she'd picked up some new body language between him and Gene, even though they'd been trying hard to be completely normal.

'I dunno...' she mused. 'Just... a bit happier, maybe. You got someone new on the go?' She tried to ask this casually but her air was too studied to be completely real. Sam couldn't believe she would pick this up from the little contact they'd had lately - they hadn't really spoken properly since last Tuesday, before things with Gene had gone from being an occasional (and mostly repressed) idea to a real series of events. Damn, she was good.

'No!' he said, raising his eyebrows but not meeting her eyes. He thought that reply might have been a bit too quick to be believable, and arranged his face into something he hoped was relaxed as he continued. 'No, nobody 'on the go'. Spend all my time here, don't I?'

'True. And you'd never meet anyone special here, would you?' Annie's eyes were downcast, shy, and for a moment Sam thought she was trying to tell him that she knew his secret, knew that he'd been boffing the boss. Sense reasserted itself though and he realised that maybe, just maybe, she meant herself. He didn't know what to say. He'd so often given himself a hard time for flirting with Annie when he never intended for anything to happen with her... Then again, he'd found himself swept away in his feelings for her more than once; taking her out for the odd drink sometimes, reaching out to touch her face at others. If he could do all that, couldn't he flirt with her a little? She was so sweet. Sweet Annie. He had to say something, and now.

'Don't know about that, Annie,' he said, in a low voice. She looked up at him from under her eyelashes.

'Oh really?' she asked. Sam thought he saw that little flicker of hope awaken in the blue again.

'Really. I've told you before, I don't hate everything about 1973.' Now he'd done it. He was supposed to be acting like a brother for God's sake. And what about Gene?

Well, what about Gene? Whatever was going on there, it was abstruse in the extreme. Why shouldn't he just ask Annie out on a proper date, like he'd wanted to for months, and forget about Gene, never mind the multitude of other reasons not to? Thinking that way just didn't come naturally to him. He was a 'what if' kind of guy.

As he thought all of this, Annie looked at him steadily.

'Sam...' she started. He looked away, back down at his plate, and took another mouthful, as little as he wanted it. Annie didn't finish her sentence.

'Tyler!' The bark startled both of them. The Guv stood just behind Annie, and Sam noticed that the rest of the men had dispersed. The canteen was a lot quieter. How long had Gene been standing there?

'What?' he asked, not enjoying this moment, with the two people who'd been tugging his heartstrings lately in such close proximity. He had his face turned up to the Guv, but could see Annie's eyes on him.

'We've had a shout. Come on.' He didn't wait for any answer but turned and walked off, obviously expecting Sam to chase after him, as usual. Sam started to get up without thinking about it. That was the bugger of the thing: he always would chase after him. He looked back at Annie, who had a sad smile on her face. A knowing smile.

'His master's voice,' she said, dully. Sam stood for a moment longer, looking between Annie and the now-closing door of the canteen.

'Annie, I have to...'

'You don't have to explain yourself to me, Sam. I'll see you later.' Her eyes had taken on a hardness that he hated to see there. It didn't suit her.

'Yes, you will. I'll speak to you soon, OK? Properly, I mean.'

'I'll put it in me calendar,' she replied, trying for a joke but sounding bitter.

'I promise.' On impulse, he leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek, lingering for a second to feel her soft skin, smell the hint of her perfume. He withdrew and grabbed his coat from the back of his chair, following after Gene. He looked back once, but Annie had kept her back to him, was carrying on with her lunch. He saw one of the other WPCs walking over with a full tray, ready to join her. Well, she'd have company then, at least. She didn't need him. In some ways, he was the last thing she needed.

If that was true, why did he feel so guilty?

As he walked after the Guv, trying not to rush, he tried to think things over. He really was too old for this. Why couldn't he just wake up in 2006 again, back in his shiny flat, with his gadgets and gizmos, ready to drink a gin and slimline? The worst of it was that this was all coming from his own mind. He was doing this to himself. Did some part of him feel like he deserved this angst? Maybe it was payment for past sins, such as they might be. He'd always done his best to be the good guy, surely you couldn't ask much more than that from a man? Whatever this was all about, he was dealing with some shit here that he'd never had had to deal with before the accident. He'd never fancied another man, never got involved in an inappropriate relationship with a work colleague, never mind two work colleagues at once. He just didn't know what he wanted any more. When he was with Gene, he felt alive, full of testosterone, and usually full of Scotch. When he was with Annie, he felt tender, protective of her. He felt like Annie saw his best self, and he responded to that with these feelings of attraction that were almost above lust. They both made him feel desired - more, wanted - in such different ways. He had the feeling that if he left tomorrow, Gene would get over it with offensive haste, but that Annie would be hurt. If they were real. God, they seemed so real. He couldn't think like that... but how could he not? How could he function day to day here if he allowed himself to think of them as nothing more than ghosts in the machine? He'd believed in them enough not to take the jump on that first day. Thanks to Annie, of course. The way she'd asked him to stay - they'd just met, but already her blue eyes had caught on to something in him, like a fish hook through the heart.

He'd stayed because of Annie, but soon it had become about more than just her. His relationship with Gene, which was fraught and turbulent and often violent, had come to be a source of joy to him. He'd never have given credit to it at first, but Gene had taught him a lot about being a good copper, and brought him in touch with a reckless side of himself that he'd never have suspected lay there, dormant. What had Gene said to him the other week? 'Maybe this is more your cup of tea than you care to admit'. That seemed to be the truth. Why else was he still here? On the other hand, Annie drew out a lot of his sensitive side that years of being a DCI, the man in charge, had pushed to the bottom of the barrel. He had to admit it; looking back, he'd been a bit of a prick before the accident. Especially to Maya.

God, Maya. What the hell was he doing, worrying about which of his mind's creations he was more attracted to, when he had such a beautiful and very real woman to get back home to? He had to focus on that, had to get back home. He'd cut this affair with Gene off and start avoiding Annie. He'd make himself wake up. He would.

'Don't mean to interrupt, Tyler, but are you quite ready?' Sam had reached the Cortina, and Gene was leaning out of the window to speak to him as he approached slowly. He looked back at him blankly, for a moment having no idea where he was.

'I'll take that as a yes. Now GET IN.'

He sleepwalked round to the passenger side and climbed in, as Gene put his foot down and took them screeching away from the station. Sam looked at the side of Gene's face, a mask of concentration. He sighed to himself.

_I knew it. I knew this would be a mess. I told myself, and then I did it anyway_. He felt exhausted, angry with himself, torn in so many different directions. He wanted to go home. He just wanted to go home.


	5. Chapter 5: It Ain't Easy

Chapter Nineteen - It Ain't Easy

Gene could tell that something was up with Tyler, even more than usual. Their shout had been non-event; they'd had reports of a fracas outside one of the city's pubs, but when they arrived there was nothing more than a few spots of blood on the ground and a determinedly innocent looking barman claiming total ignorance. Gene had tried, unsuccessfully, to intimidate some of the punters into giving him the full story but eventually had to write it off as a drunken argument that had got out of hand. Drunk at lunchtime on Tuesday. Honestly. Some people had no stamina.

Gene had got himself a pint - or, rather, had looked at the barman meaningfully until he'd given him a pint - but Sam had refused point blank, still wearing that serious, sanctimonious face. Gene had found himself drinking more slowly than usual, trying to tempt him into talking, but instead he'd just prolonged the agony. He'd even tried to start up some conversation himself, but there was nothing doing. He gave up and necked the last third of his drink in one, wanting to get back to familiar territory.

Back at the station, Sam had contrived to spend the rest of the afternoon away from everyyone else. Gene could see the looks he was getting from the other men, the faces Ray was pulling behind Sam's back, and as much as it bothered him he had to let it happen. If he started sticking up for Tyler now it would seem beyond odd. By the time five o'clock rolled around, he felt like he'd worked a double shift, and more than ready for another drink.

'Pub, Guv?' Chris had put his head round the door of his office, interrupting his thoughts.

'Pub, Chris. See you there in a minute.' Chris left, satisfied, and Gene could see that the rest of the office had emptied out, too. Tyler remained at his desk, but he had his coat on and an air of someone finishing one last job. Even when he was taking one of his turns, he was big on getting the job done right. Gene grudgingly admired him for that. He thought this would be a decent time to try and get some sense out of Sam, with no audience to worry about. He sauntered through to the main body of the room, taking a seat near Sam's desk.

'Pub, Tyler?' he asked, casually. Sam looked up at him, his face drawn and tired. _God, he looks dreadful._

'No thanks, Guv,' he replied, his voice flat, and went back to what he was doing. Gene raised his eyebrows to himself, lifted his fags out of his pocket and lit one. He took a long draw, let it back out again. How was he going to handle this? They could absolutely not start having lovers' tiffs in the station, and however he dealt with this, today, would set a precedent for any next time there might be. He felt like it was a bit of a sensitive area, so he approached it with his usual tact and subtlety.

'What's the matter with you, then? Are your ovaries playing up?'

He could see Sam clench his jaw and lift his eyes away from the page, but he didn't look back over.

'Just a bit tired, Guv. Gonna finish this and get home.'

He did look tired, but the change in Sam's demeanour from yesterday to today was so pronounced that Gene knew something else was up. He had his suspicions about what it might be, too. He'd seen the way Sam had been looking at Cartwright this afternoon, had seen the guilt in his eyes when they'd been interrupted. He thought that Sammy-boy here might have himself a case of lovesickness, and it pained Gene a little to admit that it wasn't over his fine self. If you counted this mysterious other back home in Hyde, Gene thought that Tyler currently had three people on his affections radar, and he wasn't the kind of man who would take pleasure in that. _Oh Sam. What a mess._

'Sam...' he started, but he was interrupted.

'Gene, leave it.'

Gene didn't care for being given orders, especially not in his own station.

'I will leave it, Tyler, when I've got to the bottom of it. Is this about last night?'

'Not everything has to be about you, you know, Guv,' came the reply. Sam still looked at the desk in front of him, though he was no longer writing anything.

'So it's a total coincidence, is it, that we spent the weekend engaging in a bit of how's yer father, and now you can't even bring yourself to look at me? Come on Tyler, we're both grown men. Well, you less than me, obviously, but can you not pretend?' This was enough to bring Sam's eyes up, and Gene was shocked to see how much sadness there was in them. He wondered again what Sam's nightmare had been about. The way he'd shot away from him when he woke up...

'I can't do this, Gene.' Sam's voice was heavy, full of regret. Gene felt his own heart sink. _He's breaking up with me._ This was a concept straight out of his teenage years; adults didn't 'break up', they 'separated' or 'grew apart' or 'called it a day'. That's not how this felt though. The last couple of weeks had been a whirl of long-buried feelings of excitement, and he'd loved every minute of it. His own emotions had been running higher than usual, with his wife leaving him and dropping him into a well of loneliness. Sam had thrown him a rope, drawn him back out, made him feel wanted and important again. It had been a long time since he'd felt that way. Their few romantic encounters had been borne of those feelings taking over. His relationship with Sam, the mutual respect and affection they had for each other, had grown into something more, and he'd been glad to let it, even though it had made him question himself in ways he'd previously never even considered. Now that it was about to be over, over so soon, he felt the loss keenly. They weren't 'separating'. They were breaking up.

It was the right thing. Of course it was; secret affairs couldn't last forever, especially not an affair between two straight men. if he was honest, though, he'd hoped it would last a little longer than this. It was over before it had really begun. And what would happen now? Would Sam avoid him, leave for Hyde again without a look back over his shoulder? That might depend on how Gene replied to him now. He struggled to find the right words, the words that would show Sam how much he meant to him, even if they never touched each other again.

'Alright, Sam. We said we'd see what happened, and this is what's happened. We're still partners, aren't we?'

'Are we, Gene?'

'Course we are. I've told you before, you're a good copper. That hasn't changed.'

Sam kept his eyes fixed on Gene's, radiating a great, heavy sorrow. It hurt Gene's heart to see it; previously he'd have scoffed at that idea, but his stone-clad heart had a chink in its armour when it came to Sam Tyler. He needed looking after, and that was a task Gene had taken on himself, almost before he realised it. In recent days, that had taken a more physical form, but if they took that away there would still be the solid bedrock of the relationship they'd been building from day one. The Gene Genie wasn't so shallow as people thought. The depth of his feelings for Sam couldn't be destroyed by a few ill-advised (but irresistible) nights in the sack. They were sitting too far apart for him to touch Sam, and perhaps that was for the best. He'd like to reach out and place a steadying hand on his shoulder, but with their feelings running so close to the surface, who knew where that would lead? And if it didn't lead anywhere, if Sam brushed his hand away, that would be crushing. He puffed on his cigarette again, looking back at Sam through the smoke, keeping his face calm.

'I'm sorry,' Sam eventually said, still looking it. 'I wish... I wish things were different.'

'We all do. For one thing I wish you were a bird with big knockers, but what are we gonna do?' This was a risky gambit but it paid off; Sam gave a grudging laugh, screwing his mouth off to one side.

'Will we be OK?' he asked.

'We'll be fine, Sam. Business as usual, right?'

'Right.'

There was another pause - Gene had never known anyone who could litter a conversation with so many meaningful pauses - and Sam spoke again.

'It's been fun, though, all the same, hasn't it?'

'Fun? I'll say.' Gene had a quick look around, to make sure they were still alone. 'I wasn't lying - that really was the best blow job I've ever had.' Sam laughed again, which was a great improvement.

'Tell you what,' Gene continued. 'If I'd known last night was gonna be the last time we... well, it would have been different.'

'Oh yeah?' asked Sam. 'Different how?'

Gene wasn't really sure how to express what he was thinking. So many times, after the end of a relationship, he'd had this same feeling. That, if he'd known it'd be the last time, he'd have made it count. Made it a fitting end. Like in the films - life was so chaotic, full of loose ends, but in the movies things were always tied up in neat little bundles. The characters had their last kisses, said things like 'Here's looking at you, kid'. No loose ends.

'Dunno,' he mused, a bit embarrassed at having brought it up at all instead of just dealing with this in stoic silence, like a man should. He did feel, though, that last night's quick and angry encounter, followed by an uncomfortable night's sleep on Sam's folding bed and the traumatic start to today, was definitely not what he would have planned. There would have been more booze, more laughs, a better night's sleep and a far more amiable morning. Still, that was life for you.

'Maybe... no. Nothing. Aren't you off to the pub?' Sam said, trying to change the subject.

'Maybe what, Tyler?'

'Nothing Guv. I'd better get off, need to catch up on some sleep.'

He stood up with these words, looking away again. Gene remained seated.

'No, go on, maybe what?'

Sam looked uncomfortable. 'Maybe we could, you know, have a do-over.'

'A what? If that's one of your weird Hyde sex games, you can count me out...' Gene was only winding him up; he thought he knew what Sam meant, really.

'Forget it,' said Sam, taking a few steps past him towards the door. Gene reached out and stopped him, coming to his feet.

'No,' he said, simply. 'I know what you mean. D'you think it's a good idea?'

Sam shrugged. 'I don't think it's any worse of an idea than all the other ones we've had just lately.'

Gene gave a small smile at that. 'Alright, then. Come on.'

'Down the pub?' asked Sam, trying to keep his voice neutral.

'The pub? On our last date? I don't think so, Sammy-boy.'

'A date, is it, Guv? It'll be our first as well as our last, then.'

'Well we'd better make it a good'un, then, hadn't we?'

Gene swept a grand gesture towards the door with one arm. Sam smiled, and started in that direction, with Gene falling in next to him. He knew that this wasn't what you would call a good idea, but the prospect of one last night of feeling connected with someone, safe, was too good to turn down. He was a great believer in closure. He wouldn't use that word in front of Gene, not if his life depended on it, but that's what he was hoping for. What he was offering them with the suggestion of one last night. One date. A date with Gene Hunt.

As they climbed into the Cortina, he asked Gene where they were going.

'I'm taking you to dinner, Sam. A slap up curry and a few pints, how about that?'

'Sounds good to me,' he said, and it did. It really did. Tomorrow he could start again trying to figure out what he was still doing here, in 1973. For now, a night of good food, good company and the absence of any bad dreams would be enough.

'Won't they be missing you down the Railway Arms?' he said, as they roared off away from the station.

'Course they will, but I'm only one man. Sometimes I have to put meself first, eh?'

'Absolutely,' Sam grinned, hanging on as they took a sharp corner. He felt a lot lighter than he'd have expected half an hour ago. It had been a bad day for him, from the beginning, and his resolution to end things with Gene had weighed heavy on his heart. There was still sorrow in there, waiting to unfold, but he felt like it might not be as bad as he'd feared. They could have one last night of this, whatever this was, and then things might just go back to normal, given a bit of time. It was the best result he could hope for, really.

Dinner was all Gene had promised - they'd gone to the same restaurant Sam had taken them to before, but this time there were no voices on the radio. They'd eaten their fill of spicy food, sunk several pints each, and strolled back to the car feeling happy and sated. Conversation had been light and easy, punctuated with joking and laughs. The drive back to Gene's house happened in companionable silence, and Sam started to feel the tangles of their recent affair unknot. They were winding it down, going back to normal, and though he felt the pain of the separation it was eased by the promise of a future where they were still partners and, crucially, still friends. They arrived back at the house and went through the same routine, with Sam taking off his boots and jacket while Gene poured them a couple of stiff drinks. Sam settled himself on the couch, accepted the Scotch gratefully, relaxed against the soft cushions. When Gene placed a hand on his knee he looked over, met the slightly questioning look - _Is this alright?_ - with a smile. Of course it was alright. Everything was alright.

They drank and watched TV for an hour or two, Gene's arm soon migrating round Sam's shoulders again. The atmosphere had lost the electric charge of the preceding nights; there was no more anticipation, no more wondering what was going to happen or pretending to be casual with racing hearts. They enjoyed each other's company and made the most of this, their last night together. When it came to time for bed, Gene stood to switch the box off, then returned to the couch to finish the last of his Scotch. Sam slid himself forward on the couch, ready to stand up and head for the bedroom. Gene turned to him, reached out a hand to hold his shoulder.

'Thanks, Sam,' he said. This caught Sam off-guard.

'Thanks? For what?'

'For this. These last couple of weeks, I've not been lonely any more. And if you ever tell anyone I said that I'll shove you down the stairs, tell everyone it was an accident.'

Sam grinned. 'You too Guv,' he said, not wanting to lay it on too thick. The grin stayed on his face as he leaned forward, towards Gene, and he closed his eyes as their lips met, for the last time. Their kiss was gentle, just as perfect as the one he'd dreamed of last night. Gene's hand moved from shoulder to jaw, holding his head carefully but firmly as they explored each other's mouths, breathing in unison. It went on for longer than before, perhaps as they tried to make the most of the opportunity, and when they stopped, they stayed close together, foreheads touching, eyes closed. Sam felt a sadness try to settle on him, but wouldn't let it. It was the right thing, drawing a close to this side of their relationship, and he knew it. That didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the final hours just as much, if not more, than those that had gone before. Gene drew him into another hug, as he had on the first night they'd spent together, but this time he felt both of the man's arms wrap around his back and hold him. He let his own arms slide around Gene's broad form and held on tightly. He burned this feeling into his mind, making it a memory. The feeling of being held tenderly by strong arms, the smell of smoke and aftershave, the tiny scratch of Gene's stubble against his neck. He breathed it all in, filling himself with the joy of it.

Gene let him go, slowly, and they leaned away from the embrace.

'Come on then. Let's get some kip,' he said.

Sam nodded and made it to his feet, led the way upstairs. Whatever happened when they got there, Sam felt like he had his closure, now.


	6. Chapter 6: Let's Dance

Chapter Twenty - Let's Dance

It had been a few weeks since Sam and Gene had spent their last night together. Things had been awkward; Sam wished he could say otherwise. Outwardly, they'd kept it together as best they could, but there were inevitable moments when Sam couldn't help but remember edited highlights from their short affair, and it was hard to be normal. Whatever passed for normal round here. Sometimes, the thought that he'd never have another hug from Gene Hunt was almost like a physical pain. It was something he'd never thought would happen in the first place, had pretended not to want for months, but it turned out that knowing it would never happen again was worse, far worse, than he could have imagined. The sex was one thing - fun as it had been, Sam suspected that the thrill of novelty would only have got them so far. The connection they'd shared was another. He missed the easy banter they'd had before, even missed the less easy arguments that they'd both subtly avoided having in the last few weeks. They hadn't touched each other at all, not a pat on the arm or a punch to the ribs. It turned out that he did miss it, more than was sane. Whatever passed for sane, round here.

The rest of CID must have noticed the changes between the Guv and the Boss. Nobody had mentioned it to Sam, not even Annie, but he could see people exchanging looks when Gene dropped some egregious example of bad taste and Sam didn't react, or when Sam came out with some smart comment and Gene blanked him completely. The times when they were alone, usually in the car, were in this respect the easiest - at least they didn't have the pressure of putting on a face for anyone else - but at the same time were the worst of all. They didn't mention what had happened between them, not even in hints, and there were a lot of silences when they weren't talking about work.

It was during one of these silences, on the way back to the station from a job, that the Guv spoke up.

'Had a phone call the other night,' he said, voice forcedly casual.

'Oh yeah?' asked Sam, matching his tone but beginning to have an intuition about where this might be going, and not knowing how to feel about it.

'Yeah. The missus.' There it was.

'Oh?' was all he could say, feeling like an idiot but not knowing what else there was.

'Yeah,' Gene said again, keeping his eyes straight ahead. 'She, eh... well she's had enough of her mother. Can't say as I blame her.'

Sam didn't say anything. He still wasn't sure how he felt. He'd known that things were over between him and Gene - in fact, he'd finished it, and if he was ever in the position to tell anyone so he most certainly would. He also couldn't deny still having those feelings of attraction to Annie, and when they'd gone out together last week for a quiet drink, he'd stolen another peck on the cheek that hadn't felt entirely platonic. Nor had it felt particularly stolen, if it came to that. So really he had no grounds to feel upset if Gene's wife was going to come back to him. He should feel glad, if anything, that the Guv wouldn't be on his own any more. All this made perfect sense, but he couldn't shift the feeling of loss in his chest.

'So she's coming home then?' he asked, redundantly. Gene sniffed.

'Yeah... she asked me to go and pick her up at the weekend.' There was another pause, then, 'I've had enough of living on me own, Sam. It doesn't suit me.' Sam nodded. He didn't want Gene to be lonely. He didn't want that for either of them.

'Good,' he said. 'That's good. I'm glad.'

'Are you?' Damn him, he couldn't just make this easy, could he?

'Yeah, course I am. Why wouldn't I be?' Gene didn't answer that, but carried on speaking, as though he couldn't keep the words to himself.

'I love her, you know.'

'I know, Guv. I know you do. You better straighten up and fly right, though, eh? No more nights down the pub?'

This was met with a snort. 'That will be shining bright. Catch me turning henpecked...'

A pause.

'I might cut down a bit though, you know. Spend a bit more time round the house.' Sam smiled despite himself. Gene was so full of bluster, wouldn't be caught dead looking as though he was putting any effort into his marriage, but he obviously loved his wife. When she'd left him, he'd taken solace in what Sam had to offer, which had suited them both. However, Sam knew the word 'rebound' even if Gene didn't. He didn't think that was all that had happened, but he'd be lying to himself if he tried to say it had nothing to do with it. Gene would never have cheated on his wife, not properly, if he hadn't thought she was gone for good. His morals might be alien to Sam, but that didn't mean they weren't there.

'Hope you're not laughing at me, Dorothy,' snapped Gene, catching Sam's smile out of the corner of his eye. Since their argument in Gene's office after Sam had been taken temporarily hostage, Gene hadn't called him any girls names. And here it was, finally, that old favourite - Dorothy. Sam surprised himself by being glad to hear it. Maybe it meant they could get back to normal one day, after all.

'I wouldn't do that, would I Guv?' he asked, still with a hint of a smile on his face. Gene snatched a look at him as he drove, and his hard expression softened. They hadn't made much eye contact lately, maybe both afraid of what they'd see, but they did so fleetingly now. Sam saw the old, pre-kiss Gene Hunt in those eyes, poised between starting a fight and letting loose a hoarse laugh.

'I suppose not Tyler. You know what's good for you, eh?'

'That's right. I do.'

The atmosphere seemed a bit lighter, and Sam wondered how long Gene had been keeping this bit of news to himself, if it had been preying on his mind. People thought that the Guv always acted just to please himself, but Sam knew there was more to him. He was a protector of his men, and maybe, just maybe, this extended to sparing their feelings sometimes, too.

It was the end of the day - but not the end of their shift. The Guv was briefing them on tonight's job; they had an undercover sting planned to pick up some dealers who'd been a thorn in Manchester CID's side for too long. If Sam knew Gene, though, he'd probably be employing his usual briefing style of getting Sam to do the actual work.

'Right, you lot,' the Guv started. 'You know we've been setting this up for ages, and tonight is the night. We're gonna nail these pusher bastards, once and for all. Since this is such a dangerous mission, I will once again be leading the way.'

'Funny that, Guv. Every time we go undercover in a pub you're right there in the front line,' said Ray, to a round of muted laughter.

'Never let it be said that Gene Hunt was found wanting, Raymondo,' the Guv answered.

'Not wanting of a pint, anyway,' added Chris, to more chuckles.

'Alright, enough. Are we all clear on what's happening? Sam?' As expected, and right on cue. Sam was ready with his answer.

'Yes Guv.' He stood up to stand next to Gene, and turned to face the room. 'Annie, Phyllis, you'll be with me and the Guv. We'll take up position as near the suspects as we can. Ray, Chris, you'll be in a strategic position near the exits, with WPCs Mills and Atkins.' Ray nudged Chris at that, grinning. The WPCs appeared less enthused, obviously not relishing being here in the all-male CID environment, or loving the idea of being paired off with Ray and Chris. 'We keep watch, try to catch them selling, and if anything kicks off we radio for backup.' He looked round, eyebrows raised, waiting to take any questions. There were none, and he turned back to the Guv.

'Right,' said Gene. 'See you all back here at twenty one hundred. That's nine o'clock to you, Chris.' Chris took the jibe in his stride, possibly because he had needed the clarification. Everyone dispersed, with Annie casting Sam one last lingering look on her way out.

'Home first, Guv?' Sam asked, trying to pretend that long moment of eye contact hadn't happened. For once, Gene seemed willing to let it slide.

'Home first. Can't turn up looking like this, it'll be too obvious that I'm a man of great importance.' Sam nodded sagely.

'Alright,' he said, starting towards the door. Gene accompanied him, and they passed through the double doors at the same time. Being so close to the Guv was easier than it had been at first, but there were still times when it gave Sam a shiver. He repressed it as best he could, trying to keep his mind firmly on the job ahead of them. Going undercover was always risky, and the more officers you had involved, the worse it was. There would be eight of them tonight, four of them inexperienced in the field, and it was fraught with potential danger. Everyone else might see it as a trip to the pub but he knew differently. Gene was a bloody liability, as well; he had started to take to the concept of 'undercover' a bit more, these days, but you still never knew when he was going to go off at a tangent. He, Sam, would have to be on his best form.

When they got outside, Gene offered him a lift back to his flat, but Sam turned him down. Another spell in the car might undo all the good they'd managed to do with their conversation earlier. Besides, even if they'd managed to look one another in the eye, and talk about 'birds' for five minutes, there was still some stuff under the surface. In Sam's experience, that under the surface stuff never really went away; he'd never slept with anyone who he'd later been able to look at as 'just a friend'. Sex changed things. They could go back to being partners, and he thought they were well on their way to doing that, but there would never be any 'just' about it. Gene took the refusal with his usual indifference and climbed into the Cortina, roaring away as though late for some important event. Sam trudged onwards, back towards his flat.

As he got himself ready, Sam thought over the plan for tonight. He visualised everything going perfectly; positions reached and held, a good clean collar, no guns drawn and certainly no skirmishes. No shots fired. No hostages taken. He held the images in his mind's eye, as he often did before a job like this, and allowed himself to fully believe that it would all happen just as he had planned it. Well, tried to believe it, anyway. The spectre of Gene Hunt kept acting out; even in Sam's imagination, he was hard to control. Or should that be the imagination within Sam's imagination? He dismissed this thought, trying not to be distracted. It was time to head back to the station. He slid his leather jacket on, and checked the inside pocket for his badge. He lifted it out, opening it to reassure himself that it was all there and in order. On one side, a corner of paper poked out from behind his warrant card. He frowned, and tugged at it. As it slid out, he remembered what it was, and remembered putting it there.

Pressed flat, and a little smudged from being folded over, was a sheet of paper bearing just one word, in Gene's handwriting.

_Sam_

Looking at it brought a rush of emotions; he had picked this up the day after their first kiss, the day after things had really and irreversibly changed. He remembered lifting it out of the bin in Gene's office, and putting it in his pocket, with the other two discarded notes. When he'd found them again, he'd made himself throw the other two out, but he'd tucked this one safely away. Just one word, just his name, but it was a powerful token nonetheless. He thought that keeping it in with his badge, his shield, seemed appropriate.

He looked at it just a moment longer before carefully folding it and tucking it all the way back in. He snapped the wallet shut again, slid it into his inside pocket, and took a deep steadying breath. That book was closed - he'd closed it himself. No point in getting all misty eyed over it, now. Gene was still the Guv, and Sam still his DI, and that was a lot more than most people could say. More than most people would ever have. And tonight, they had a job to do.


	7. Chapter 7: Everything's Alright

Chapter Twenty One - Everything's Alright

Sam was caught up in a confusing world of harsh, white light. He struggled to open his eyes, feeling like he might just be able to manage it this time. The beep of the hospital monitor was mixed with a voice - but not the soothing voice of his mum, or the clinical sound of the doctors talking about him. They had been there before, but now there was a taunting, leering voice in their place. Sam was in agony, petrified, unable to move. There was whistling; that song that he'd loved to hear Morcambe and Wise sing, as a kid, now made sinister and haunting, a soundtrack to the stabbing pains all over his body. He was screaming, not sure if his voice was only in his head, screaming to the shadowy figure to stop hurting him.

A splintering crash broke through everything else and he sat bolt upright, eyes wide, dragging in a gasp.

'Are you on strike? Come on, hands off your dingaling, we've had another shout.'

The Guv, standing there in all his glory, the ruins of Sam's front door lying on the ground behind him. It had been a dream - like all the others, it had seemed so real, but there was nothing like Gene Hunt to bring you back to earth.

'Well seeing as though you broke my door down, I take it it's big,' he said, keeping his voice flat even though his heart was still pounding. What a way to wake up. He looked up at Gene, one eyebrow raised. Gene leaned over the bed, bent at the waist, and held his gloved hands apart in an evocative gesture.

'Shelley Winters' arse.' He smacked his leather-clad palms together three times before making his exit, spinning round the now-empty doorframe and not waiting to see if Sam was following him. Sam knew that he would follow, of course he would, but took a second to bring himself fully awake. He ran a hand across his hair, making his bed head worse, and looked around the dingy room he called home here in 1973. What would it be like to have a normal life again? Maybe wake up to the sound of an alarm clock, or talk radio, instead of the noise of his front door being kicked in? He'd have to get that replaced. Again.

'Tylah!' The Guv was using his sergeant-major voice on him. He turned his head briefly in the direction of the corridor, then back into the room. With a sigh and clenched teeth, he swung out of bed to get dressed.

Another glorious day in CID.

Another glorious day with the Guv.

He permitted himself a tiny smirk as he tugged on his clothes and boots, and seized his jacket from the back of the chair. The Guv yelled in at him again, his voice sounding a bit closer.

'Stop noncing about, Tyler, there's work to do.'

His smirk grew wider, unseen. Another glorious day, sure enough.


End file.
